


Knowing Where You Stand

by mydeira, Sadbhyl



Series: Responsible Adults (aka, The Menageaverse) [83]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 04:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joyce and Buffy get a rare moment alone together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knowing Where You Stand

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published September 26, 2005
> 
> Spoilers through “Killer In Me” (which is almost entirely negated in the ‘verse, yay!). What happened to me? Writing short chapters . . . scary. But sometimes you don’t need an epic to tell what’s needed. Thank you to [](http://sadbhyl.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://sadbhyl.livejournal.com/)**sadbhyl** for encouragement and polish.

Joyce was sitting at the kitchen island, attempting to do her bills, when Buffy finally emerged from the basement looking strained and more exhausted than ever.

“How’s he doing?” Joyce asked tentatively. Taking off her reading glasses, she pushed the bills aside to give her daughter her full attention.

“Sleeping like the proverbial dead,” Buffy joked half-heartedly, leaning against the wall with a tired sigh. “Gotta give the government credit, they do know their drugs. I doubt Spike will be waking up before tomorrow night. By then he should be mostly healed. Or so the doctor said.”

“I wish I could have recovered that quickly after my surgery,” Joyce said.

The girl looked surprised. “Yeah, I guess you would understand what it’s like, wouldn’t you? I never thought of that.”

“Well, our situations are a bit different,” she pointed out. It definitely wasn’t something Joyce had ever expected to have in common with Spike.

“Still,” Buffy said. “Doesn’t it ever kind of freak you out, knowing someone was poking around inside your head?”

“Not as much as finding out what caused the tumor did.” Joyce shivered. She tried to think about that time as little as possible. And while she would never admit it out loud, a part of her was very glad Cassandra Jameson was irrevocably dead. Shaking off the thought, she steered the subject back to Spike. “You made the right choice, Buffy, having them remove the chip completely.”

“I did,” she agreed, but didn’t sound wholly convinced. “He hasn’t needed the chip for a long time, has he?”

“No, he really hasn’t.”

“Because of the soul.”

Joyce shook her head. “I think he proved himself long before that, Buffy.”

“Yeah.” Buffy pushed off from the wall and went to the refrigerator, rummaging around and pulling out a carton of orange juice. The look of disgust told Joyce it was empty before she spoke. “You would think that one of the things they would have taught those girls is a few manners.”

She laughed. “Ethan said the same thing when he found the nearly empty milk jug this morning.” Buffy frowned. Joyce sobered somewhat to apologize. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to think the two of you might have anything remotely in common. I’ll remember to check myself next time.”

“I’d appreciate it.” Grabbing a water, Buffy closed the door and pulled up a seat opposite Joyce at the island. “It’s funny, but I can’t remember the last time you and I were alone like this.”

“It’s been awhile,” Joyce agreed with a touch of melancholy at the thought. She really couldn’t remember when the last time was either.

They sat there, mother and daughter, enjoying a moment of peace together. There was a time when it had always been like this. Just her and Buffy.

“How are you holding up, Mom?”

“Me? I’m fine, Buffy,” Joyce tried to reassure her. “Really.”

“This craziness is my life, and I’m not fine,” she exclaimed. “None of this can be easy on you. What with Dawn being a Potential, Giles risking his life running after more girls, and hey, crazy vampire in your basement,” Buffy finished with a wave to the basement door.

“It’s the way things are. I can’t really be anything but fine with it, can I?”

“I guess not, but . . . You wouldn’t want to maybe trade for a day would you?” Buffy asked, her tone half-playful, half-serious. “Me be the mom, worry about the bills and you get the apocalypse and clueless young girls looking to you for answers?”

“I think I could manage a day,” Joyce said, playing along. “But could you?”

“What? Bills, running the gallery, general mom-duties. No sweat.” Buffy grinned.

“You’re forgetting one thing.” Buffy looked at her confused. “My life also comes with Ethan.”

The girl’s eyes widened in horror. “Ok, that’s so not fair.”

“Ethan for Spike, doesn’t seem like such a bad trade,” Joyce said with a shrug, trying not to smile too much at Buffy’s discomfort.

“First of all, ew. Secondly, you have two, count them, two British men of your own, keep your eyes off mine!”

Joyce studied her daughter closely. She couldn’t really ask for a better opening, could she? “So you and Spike are together again?”

Buffy grew quiet, all lightness fleeing as she chewed her bottom lip. “Honestly? I don’t know, Mom. And it’s not like there’s been time for much togetherness with the crazy and the kidnapping and the fun with the First. I really couldn’t say what we are. If anything.” She shrugged.

“What do you want it to be, Buffy?”

“What do I want? It doesn’t matter what I want. Not right now. There’s too much else—”

“Now is the time when something like this matters most,” Joyce interrupted. “You have no idea what tomorrow’s going to bring. It’s not a bad thing knowing where you stand with each other.”

Buffy stood quickly, looking uncomfortable. “I should probably get back down there, see how he’s doing.”

“I’m sorry, Buffy, I didn’t mean to interfere.” Well, actually, she had.

The girl paused with her hand on the basement door. “You did, but you’re also right.”

“I’m your mother, Buffy, of course I’m right,” Joyce said, happy to see her daughter smile at that.

“Thanks, Mom.” And she disappeared down the stairs, leaving Joyce alone with her bills once more.  



End file.
